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Blue Stars
Blue Stars is an original novel by Zavior. Cursed by the gods for this sins of his father, Zavior Arrokoth must answer the riddles they left behind before a demon causes the genocide of his entire kingdom.. Prologue The calmest and happiest moments of someone's life can play herald to the worst tragedies imaginable. A simple unexpected event can drastically change a person from a king to a pauper in a single hour. The slightest notion of fate can turn gods into mortals. Zavior Arrokoth would soon come to know the truth of this. A tragedy on the horizon threatened to change everything about the life he knew. It began on the eve of a celebration of peace, while young prince Zavior slept less than soundly in his bed. His nightmares had him tossing and turning as they showed him images of war and violence while playing whispers of doom in his ear. In his mind, demons and gods battled fiercely to claim the stars above him. Monsters reached with shadowy fingers, that stretched to impossible proportions to pry the twinkling lights from the sky. Heavenly sabers from angelic figures sliced away the tendrils before they could reach their goal. Angels and demons alike all perished in fantastic either by being filled with unnatural color or being consumed by the ever creeping darkness. The darkness was held only at bay by the light of the more favorable looking beings. Neither side was winning, but the battle raged on as those who fell were quickly replaced. Yet for all the chaos around Zavior, only one particular being took interest in him. Her skin was perfect and it radiated a soft green of life like a beacon in an otherwise darkening realm. She made her way slowly towards Zavior, while he stood mesmerized by her most defining feature: Her eyes. Energy so prominently fluctuate within them that is was as if they were made of burning jade. They commended him to remain calm, but as the figure moved closer, he could only tremble. Zavior felt he was of this creature's whim and at any moment a simple gesture would remove him from existence. A voice, a soft sweet whisper when spoken, resounded in an angry tone in Zavior's head. "You were meant to protect her. She will die because of you! She is nothing without you! You are nothing without her. Why did you let her go?" He gripped his ears and shut his eyes, but it did nothing to remove her image and voice from his mind. The message was meant to reach him whether he wanted it or not. He cringed in terror with every word. "You and the guardian as one. You deliver the light." All around the conversing pair fell the bodies of the defeated from both parties. Zavior collected himself enough to note the peril of being crush, but somehow knew he was in no danger of that and remained much more concerned about the creature before him. He knew nothing of guardians or any such light. Through the noise of combat Zavior called back to the creature, "What are you talking about!?" The tone of the messenger changed and became lighter, though Zavior's skull still felt about to explode every time she spoke. Somehow what seemed as whisper always managed to overpower the noise of magic bursts, cries of agony, and bodies dropping all around. "The guardian of the chosen. You will try to keep her safe, this is your mission. You are supposed to watch after her. She is waiting for you..." Zavior shook his head. This information made even less sense. "Who? I don't-" "Time is fleeting! There is no more! Keep her safe. She is in danger without you. You are nothing without her. Be warned: The demon is very real!" The messenger paused to look up as something caught her eye. One of the warring demons descended rapidly towards he, but this one had not been felled by the angelic. It made to attack Zavior's company with a distorted look of glee on what could pass for a face. She took one last look at Zavior before shouting. "The demon has Tijah! She is in danger!" A different fear woke Zavior and he sat up practically screaming his little sister's name. "Tijah!" The cry rang out in the middle of the night providing a stark contrast to what would be otherwise peaceful. He flung himself out of bed and bolted into the hallway, bounding into two guards that had heard his scream came to investigate. Although he was a child, Zavior brushed past them with ease and ran past due mostly to their sheer surprise, but also recognizing their prince and their desire to keep from harming royalty at their own risk. The one to recover faster gestured to the room. "You check in there for anything funny. I'll go after his majesty." Zavior was well ahead by the time the guard sprang after him. A second set of guards saw him coming and requested, "Sir! What is the matter?" Zavior said nothing as he ran past, causing the guards to exchange curious glances before the earlier guard came bounding after. "Kouizka, What's spooked his magesty?" One asked the pursuing gaurd. "Who knows? Just be ready for anything." Zavior burst into Tijah's room to find the place looking spotless and her resting well on her own bed. "But..." He was confused. Nothing was wrong. The room was tidy, thanks to the servants more than Tijah's own care. There was no intruder. Zavior approached Tijah's side and looked about the room. None of the creature's from his nightmare were around. Kouizka burst into the room with the other guards in tow and weapons drawn. He carried blades of pure energy, created of his own will power. Zavior had always wanted to summon one, but lacked not only the discipline, but the ability. Most of his kind didn't naturally collect their inner energy in enough quantity until early adolescence. Zavior was startled by the sudden entrance and lept into a combat stance, drawing chuckles from the arrivals. He frowned and continued to examine the room, finding nothing to cause concern. "Sir Arrokoth," whispered Kouizka. "What seems to be the trouble?" "There's a monster after Tijah!" The guards smirked to themselves at the boy's outburst and Kouizka waved away one back into the hall. Tijah herself awoke to all the noise looking perplexed. "Sir Arrokoth, don't you worry about monsters. It's our job to keep you safe. Run along back to your bed and we'll be on the look out." Zavior wasn't convinced. "Mom and dad say it's my job to look after her." He looked back and her bed, then back at the guard. "I want to stay here tonight... Just in case." Kouizka looked slightly amused at the child. "As you wish your majesty, but you have nothing to worry about as long as we are around. We'll take care of any monsters we see." Zavior had sworn to his parents to look after Tijah, the youngest of three siblings. They called it his big brother duty and beaten the idea into his head. His older brother had other responsibilities, being the eldest son, which meant that Zavior usually got stuck looking after her. Most of the time he didn't mind, but she had proven to be quite cable of getting herself into trouble, not unlike Zavior himself. He finally turned to face his sister who was most confused by the entire event and quite sleepy. "What's going on, Zei?" Zavior spoke back to her as he crawled into her bed and grabbed her hand. "There's a monster lose in the castle and it's after you, but I'm going to keep you safe." The words weren't exactly soothing and brought a look of alarm to her face. "Don't worry," Zavior reassured her with a smile. "I'm here. It wont get us." Tijah blinked a few times and nodded. "Is it scary?" Zavior smirked pridfully. "Nah. I can take it. If it comes near us, I'll beat it up!" "Mmkay." That was all she apparently needed to hear. She instandly returned to sleep after a long yawn. Zavior himself wasn't as convinced by his own words. If whatever was after him was like anything in his dreams, he wasn't certain he could fight it away. Then again, there was nothing to suggest there was anything wrong at all. He mused for a moment that perhaps it was just a dream, but the experience felt terribly real while at the time. He tried to remember what the messenger told him, but sleep got the better of him as well as he thought about it. For the rest of the night, Zavior slept peacefully with Tijah beside him. He had a big day tomorrow. It was the date of the anniversary since his people, the Zazvoxians, had declared peace with their enemies. Not too long before he was born, his Father made the decree that they no longer would they be warriors out for conquest. Instead they would peacefully coexist with others. The decision came as a shock to his people. He explained that the gods had demanded they cease their senseless violence and tyranny throughout the galaxy. Unfortunately for King Zanthor Arrokoth, this caused a divide. There were many who did not want to give up their life of fighting. Many, if not most, had trained to be warriors all of their lives. A good half of them wanted to exercise their training and continue to test their mettle in combat. The others were in full support of the king, tired of all of the fighting. These divides became religious in nature. Those in support of the king claimed that if the gods wished it, then it must be the new way. Those against claimed there was no proof of these gods and no sign of the demon they had supposedly been cursed with for disobeying. Chapter One: Curse of the Arrokoths (Note: This is not even a fourth of the way finished.) Time was not measured by the rising and setting sun for the Zazvoxians. Day was eternal. The planet's rotation versus its revolution kept one side embraced by sunlight while the other part remained buried in darkness. The timing was perfect and those who believe in the gods supposed that they clerverly designed it so. For the faithful, there was a lot about their planet to suggest intelligent design played a hand. For the practical, there was just as much evidence as that simple chance was at work. Regardless of reason, the concept of sunrise and sunset had no place on this particular plant. Though there was no day or night, it would be incorrect to say that time was unimportant to them. Schedule moved the planet and its inhabitants. Times were made for resting, building, training, learning, and play. ZcyraKourajah was the only city left active when the Zazvoxians took to the stars, but for that reason, it was quite large and nearly always quite busy. Before the declaration of peace it was conquest that drove them, but ever since that fateful day knowledge became the primary motivation. To appease the warriors who had trained to fight, arenas had been constructed for participants to quench their natural desire for violence and provided entertainment for any observers. Artisans and engineers gave the city structure and life. They designed the marvels that made up the empire, created the weapons and starships that made them dominant in the explored universe and produced various works of music and art. This was the life Zavior was born into: All the technilogical comforts of a reformed warrior society. Resources were plenty and everyone benifited. Machines took care of the mundain and undesirable tasks and it came to be that most were satisfied with their chosen path. King Arrokotha and his Counsel oversaw the law. Crime and disoder are weeds that always grow in any society, but Zazvoxian law acted as a determined gardener ensuring only the desirable members thrive. Thus crime was relavitly low. It seemed that all the Zazvoxians had built was near perfect, including their way of life. Aside from criminal, there were other Zazvoxians who didn't quite fit the mold and usually gained any combination of dissaproval, wonder, fear, or admiration from the other castes: The Mystics. They sought the knowledge buiried within themselves and had learned to bend their own inner power to their will. Zazvoxians were comprised of a strange form of energy containted within them called Orai that gave them a unique trait: The ability to manipulate the energies of the universe. Of all the speicies they had encountered across the galexy, aside from perhaps the gods, it appeared that they alone were so gifted. The average Zazvoxian stood around six to eight feet tall on digitigrade legs. Their skin looked nearly metalic white, with very little variation in color between each member. Long arms gave them quite a reach when needed; their fingers streetched below their knees. A long tail ended in three prongs that either jutted outward or inward depending on the gender. The glowing ends of their tail marked a focal point of their energy. When threatened, it became a weapon capable of shocking a victim to death depending on the amount released. The last distinguishing feature was the azure glow not just from the points on their tails, but from their eyes. Many Zazvoxians believed their eyes were a mark from the gods to show that the mysteries of the universe were theirs to unravel. The mystics, expecially, believed to be true. They had discovered a wide assortment of abilities that escaped the other castes. For non mystics, the only ways of utilizing energy was to generate power for devices, or summon the Orai weapons of the warriors. Zavior wanted to be one of the warriors. The ability to summon Orai weapons allured him, but he had never been able to create one. He had attempted many times during training with his peers, but it always escaped him. As a result of his failures he had to train using devices designed to store and produce Orai for those not powerful enough to make their own armaments manifest. This was especially embarrasing for Zavior because his friends, Talzen and Razzia, were able to start materializing their own a year ago. Even worse, in all their sparing, Zavior had never managed to defeat Razzia. No matter how hard Zavior tried, she always excelled in competitions of dexterity and strength. This bruised Zavior's pride, but upset him primarily because of his duty to protect his sister and his royal responsibilities of being a leader. He assumed his given roles meant he had to be the best, second only to his older brother who would one day be king. To ease his failings, his mother would try to remind him to do his best and that was enough. "Everyone has their limits. You must strive to do your best; Our finest warriors can do no better." Zavior's pride wouldn't let him hear it. He knew that he was the best and wanted everyone to know he had no limits. All he needed to prove it was time. Time was unfortunately not on Zavior's side. As he awoke to the irritating buzzing of his sister's alarm, none of else really concerned him. It was a day of celebration, but at the moment all that Zavior wanted to celebrate was sleep. This would be easier if it wasn't for his sister kicking his side and grumbling, "Turn it off." "It's your alarm," he complained as he fought off the assault with his hands. "You're closer." "Uuuugh." The groan did nothing to settle the dispute nor halt the inceasant kicking. "Stop!" "I'll stop if you turn it off." Zavior smirked, finding a better way of fending off the attack in the form of tickles. Tijah eeped in alarm and began writhing. Zavior's retaliation had the amusingly unfortunate side effect of sending harder kicks from both Tijah's legs his way. When that proved to only prompt more tickles, she responded in kind. The two tossed about and giggled until Tijah's squirming caused her to fall off the bed. Zavior laughed down at her and called in a smug tone, "See. You're already up. You turn it off." Tijah attempted to climb back up, but Zavior began a game of King of the Hill. Despite her best efforts she was unable to get back on the bed. After shooting him a dirty look, she scrambled to finally silence the alarm. Peaceful silence filled the air until Zavior yawned. Tijah, having the element of surprise, took that moment to regain her place back in her bed and begin the ticklefest anew. Now it was his turn to eep in surprise. The fight continued until Queen Lizka Arrokoth came in to stop the commotion. "Zavior Kou! Tijah-Rajah!" Like a typical mother might, Lizka only refered to them past their first name in serious cases and usually when their full name had been called out, someone was in trouble. The two instantly snapped to attention and were silent. "Settle down you two. There will be plenty of time for play in a bit, but for now you two are expected to be helping prepare for the ceremony later." Lizka looked at her daughter and smiled. "At least you're where you are supposed to be." She looked at Zavior likewise, but mixed with concern. "And I've been able to find you... Where is Drexel?" Zavior and Tijah exchanged glances before looking back at their mother and it was Zavior who answered. "We don't know. We just woke up." Lizka turned to look at Zavior, but Tijah quickly offered up an explaination. "Zeizei got scared and spent the night with me." Zavior shot his sister a glare. "I did not get scared! I was-" Lizka laughed. "Okay. Okay. Calm down. Right now I need to find your brother and you two need to be about the day. Both of you get out of bed and get ready. Zavior, go find your father. He should be down in the main courtyard. Tijah, I'll wait for you and we can look for Drexel together." *** Zavior spent what could be considered the entire morning helping King Zanthor by carrying small decorations, helping set the tables, and mostly staying out of the way of the artisans appointed by his father. A few warriors were around for the heavily lifting, but it was mainly filled with the ideas and merry shouts of artisans seeing their grand designs for the courtyard come to fruition. The place was quite the flurry of activity and almost everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves. To Zavior, it was terribly boring and he wasn't sure why he was required to be there. The help posted seemed more than enough, but Zanthor wouldn't let him leave until everything was in place. Everyone else seemed to be having a good time with one another, but they were all far older than Zavior and he found them and their conversations boring as well. Even worse, though his brother was required to be there, Drexel managed to sneak away during the entire period so Zavior didn't have the company of someone around his age to talk to. Drexel would get in trouble later, but Zavior began to wonder if the punishment would outweigh the severe boredom he currently felt. He considered Drexel lucky. As he went about his work, his thoughts began to wonder towards the rest of the day's events. He would spend the time he had before the celebration training with his friends. Maybe he would finally beat Razzia. Maybe he would summon his own Orai blades. He checked to make sure no one was looking and concentrated to pull energy into his hand. No mater the results, this simple directing of his energy always felt good and a small glow of happiness rose up within him. He directed his hands as he had seen Razzia do and used the to draw an axe in the air. Excitement filled him. The energy managed to coalesce this time and the blade of the battle axe hung in the air! As he started to draw the handle, he knew that this would be the moment he was able to create his own Orai weapon and be accepted as the next rank of warrior. No longer would he be a novice, but could finally become a true apprentice! The haft was a fourth of the way comeplete when suddenly the entire things dispersed violently, sending his energies sparking and thundering. He screamed out, first in surprise, then again in anger. His father quickly came running over to see what had happened. "Zavior! Are you alright!? What happened!?" Zavior looked sheepishly at the gound, still hot with anger at his own failings. "Nothing..." His father looked dismayed. He wasn't hurt and he wasn't offering up an explaination, so he must have been up to something. "Zavior... What were you doing?" "Nothing!" Zavior turned to look at his father, but that proved to be its own mistake. His father could he the dimmer glow of his eyes and knew Zavior had expended enough energy on something so that all that remained within his was the amount necessary for life. "Zavior, you know you aren't supposed to be creating weapons in the palace court!" Zavior looked away from his father filled with guilt. "You are my son, and as so you are supposed to be setting an example for our people." "Sorry, father." Though he had appologized, that didn't save him from being put in time out with a gaurd posted to watch him. His punishment didn't bother him. He was still concentrating on his failure. He had come so close, but again he was just too weak to make it work. Zavior's thoughts turned back to his nightmare and to his sister. Zavior was sworn to protect her, but he wasn't sure he could protect her from those creatures of nightmare. Certainly he could not face hords of demons if the gods themselves were having difficulty. At least they were able to summon their own Orai blades. He looked up at the tower he assumed Tijah was at and the messanger's voice filled his mind again. "You were meant to protect her... She will die because of you." Zavior answered back in his mind. No, Tijah will never die! I will protect her! Again Zavior swore this oath to himself. He recalled other words the messanger had spoken. "You are nothing without her. She is nothing without you." To an extent, this was true. Zavior and Tijah got a long much better with each other than their older brother. If anything happeend to her, he would never forgive himself. If something happened to Zavior, Tijah would have no one to look after her. Somehow he had to find a way to become as powerful as the gods. If they were calling him, then surely they already believed him him. Zavior's ego begain to swell with promises of becoming the hero of his entire kingdom. He would be like the gods themselves. No! More so! He would even gain their admiration as well! So wrapped up in his thoughts was he that barely noticed his name being called. Zavior broke out of his spell. "Huh?" His father gave a hearty laugh and pat his shoulder. "The preperations are finished and your time is up. You can go play now." Zavior blinked once again up at Zanthor who smirked back as he added. "And if you see your brother, let him know that after his part in the ceremony, he's confined to his room until I say otherwise." Maybe Drex isn't so lucky after all... Zavior thought. He looked around at the work completed. The entire place was set up with lights, tables, chairs, benches, small statues, displays, and so many things that it loooked completely renovated. For just a moment he was captivated by the spectical, but broke himself away to head the training grounds. Chapter Two: Light in Darkness Chosen one. Chapter Three: Commencement So I gotta take this ring to the volcano? Oh wait. Wrong story. Chapter Four: City of Fire That's no moon...